On Saturday night I was granted brief access back into the hideous world of the teenager. Thrust back into my own years of teenage angst but with my husband by my side (thank god), a drink in my hand that I hadn’t stolen and the knowledge that those horrible teenage years come to an end.
I’m not saying for a minute that being a teenager is always horrid (although it was for me) but those very beginning years when you’re just desperately trying to fit in and discover who you are, are not pretty for anyone. Not even the pretty ones.
So back to Saturday night.
It was the bar mitzvah of my friend’s son and one of my son’s closest friends. A bar mitzvah is a Jewish coming of age ceremony, that time where you cross the threshold from child to man and last night that coming of age couldn’t have been more apparent at a party (following the religious ceremony) on a cruise on the Sydney harbour.
The bar mitzvah boy couldn’t be a nicer child. He’s a really good kid with a beautiful loving family which was clearly reflected in the people on board the boat. He’s also in the same year at school as Little Pencil and they are spectacularly lucky to have an awesome cohort of kids in their year. I’m sure it doesn’t happen in many years at many schools that the kids get on as well and are as inclusive and awesome as this bunch are.
But they’re just entering the teenage years. Most of them 13 some still 12. And every single one of them just trying to fit in.
While people talk about “the kids of today” and “back when we were teenagers” and they genuinely believe that it is “so different” for today’s generation I am almost sad to report that absolutely nothing has changed from thirty something years ago when I was a teen. Except now I can see it from a completely different perspective.
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The girls are about seventeen thousand times more mature than the boys both physically and emotionally. They just want the boys to notice them or talk to them – the boys just want to tell fart jokes and join 17 straws together to make drinking out of the ocean easier!
Although, that said some of the boys are just itching to try a real drink. I’d like to pretend that’s not happening while I try to force my son in a cotton-woolled and well ventilated room with easy access to food and water but no access to the outside world. I remember drinking alcohol when I was young but not THAT young. But Little Pencil’s time will come and even though I did it, it doesn’t make it right.
And, just like thirty years ago, the gender divide is as big as it ever was before. It saddens and angers me and makes me want to lock all the kids in the cotton wool room with me while I teach them a thing or two about gender roles, dress and labelling. If a girl wears a short skirt she is not a slut. If she sits on a boy’s lap she is not a slut. If she kisses a boy right in the middle of the boat she is NOT a slut. If a boy kisses her she is not a slut. If a boy touches her inappropriately to make everyone else laugh SHE IS NOT A SLUT (but he is a jerk).
I don’t think they even know what the word slut means because there aint no sex happening here yet and even if there was, labelling someone with more than one sexual partner seems a little antiquated and judgemental. I hate that word and its hideous connotation and the fact that it is only used on girls and is bandied about with such conviction and authority. And derision.
Where do these kids even know the word slut from – the books they read? The movies they watch? THEIR PARENTS?
I know I tell my son not to judge a person on the colour of their skin or the way that they dress or any other outward attribute. But I hear his friends talk and I know that peer pressure is stronger than any thing a mum can say and I just want to lock him in my make believe paradise for a little bit longer.
The party was awesome, the kids (and the adults) had a ball and even if I spent way too much time studying the teenage psyche I managed not to embarrass my son by telling everyone how to respect each other.
Now if I can just wipe the word slut out of my mind I can get back to padding that room…
Yes – all the angst about fitting in. It’s so nice when you finally get over it by around age 35 😉
I too detest the word “slut”. Young people are constantly bombarded with the message that being sexual and sexually attractive is the highest thing that one can aspire to – yet God help a girl who actually has sex. Its just so (ahem) screwed up. Sorry about the rant.
Not even close to a rant! But I get what you mean – girls are not meant to have sex but boys…. they should have lots of it. Screwed up indeed x
I love this post. When I was writing my first novel, these are the ideas I was so keen to explore: the idea of the girl as the slut; how she takes responsibility for the actions of those around her (even at the age of 12 it seems!). I also realised (as you suggest) that this term and the way it works unfortunately hasn’t changed since the 80s when I was a teenager and that, despite digital technologies and how the landscape has changed, ideas around sexuality and gender are pretty stale. Parents, too, seem to want to stick their head in the sand (while remembering vividly what they got up to at the same age). I hope parents can do more educating (to girls, but also to boys) about sexuality and respect and kindness (rather than kids only learning about sex from porn).
Thank you Kirsten! I completely agree – we need yo educate our girls AND our boys xx
You know what? I don’t think much has changed really, although the way they communicate (social media) has added another layer. But really, as much as I hate that word too, and cringe when I think about my teenage years, it is something we have to let our kids go through. We need to step back enough to let them learn and grow (both good and bad), but be close enough to still protect them if they need it.
The teenage years are tough, but if we took them away, our kids wouldn’t be the adults they deserve to be. xxx
What a beautiful perspective. Thank you xx